Kal-Toh
by The Cheshire Cheese
Summary: It's been ten long years since Voyager's return. Tuvok is now the head of Section 31; Icheb is a renegade. Yet, there is still time for a quick game of kal-toh.


**AN: This takes place within the universe of the web series "Star Trek: Renegades." But, I've tried to write it in a way so that someone who hasn't seen "Renegades" can still follow it.**

* * *

Icheb gazed around the large office impatiently. The small crew of the Icarus, scattered around the room, looked out of place in their tattered, mismatched clothing. At the moment, the only others in the room besides the eight outlaws were an Andorian and Romulan, both female, seemingly standing guard over the pirate crew.

It didn't take long for Icheb to get restless. With the Romulan woman's unwavering eyes on him under those aggressive-looking eyebrows and cranial ridges, the Andorian doing that pathetic sweeping glance of someone trying to hide the fact that they're watching you, his captain shooting him warning glances out of the corner of her eye, and that Betazoid helmswoman who Icheb still suspected of eavesdropping on his thoughts despite her claim not to be telepathic, Icheb finally decided he'd reached his limit and stalked towards the door.

"Don't go far Icheb," Captain Lexxa Singh warned him. "I don't think most of Starfleet is supposed to know we're here."

"That's right," the Romulan woman replied.

Pretending not to hear them, Icheb headed on out the door. He couldn't remember the last time he'd walked through the halls of Starfleet Headquarters. They'd done some redecorating since he'd been there ten years earlier, upon Voyager's return home. Who in the universe had decided on this mustard-yellow motif? It seemed like a decorative choice Neelix would have made.

Icheb's jaw clenched, and he forced the memories of his old life into the back of his mind. Unfortunately that enhanced Borg memory made it difficult to forget what he'd rather not remember.

"Facial hair suits you."

Icheb knew the voice, but didn't turn around immediately. When he did he was almost startled by Tuvok's gray hair and new uniform. Aside from these changes however, the Vulcan hardly looked any different than when Icheb had known him as Voyager's security chief. Part of Icheb still envied Vulcans' long lifespans.

"Purple suits you far better than gold," Icheb finally replied. "It's been a while Tuvok."

"Indeed."

"So why are we speaking now? Why did you call the entire crew of the Icarus, a wanted vessel, to Starfleet headquarters?"

"Admiral Chekov will explain in due time."

Icheb released a long frustrated breath. "I'm tired of sitting like a Cardassian vole in a cage."

"Then perhaps we can pass the time with a game of kal-toh."

 _Kal-toh._ Now there were a few memories.

"The last time we played," Icheb mused, "I beat you. You did not take kindly to losing to an adolescent."

"My concern at that time was a neurological condition affecting my concentration."

Icheb remembered. "You recovered, after we got back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"That was a decade ago. Perhaps age and experience have evened the odds now."

With just a touch of dry humor, Icheb said, "'Experience' here meaning, 'the experience of being lured by Section 31 and given upgrades on my Borg physiology.'"

As if proof was needed, Icheb "flexed" his new implants. His eye implant sprouted it's new red-lit appendage, and the machinery installed into his arm began to shimmer into sight. Then Icheb retracted them, and returned to looking like a regular Brunali man with a small piece of metal between his eye and nose ridge.

"If you do not wish to play," Tuvok offered, "perhaps I can recite one of the Doctor's old opera pieces to pass the time."

"Like all Starfleet leaders, you are a master of persuasion Tuvok." Icheb almost smiled. "Let's play kal-toh."

They played in a corner of Admiral Chekov's office, while the rest of the Icarus's crew and the two guards continued their own conversations, some half-following the game. Icheb's Borg memory needed no help remembering every rule of the game he'd last played a decade ago.

"I did everything in my power to help you and Seven," Tuvok said quietly as he pondered his next move. "I was not yet the head of Section 31 at the time of that program, and wasn't fully aware-"

"I _know_ Tuvok," Icheb reminded him. "Borg memory."

Icheb place his game piece, and the kal-toh arrangement shimmered into a new shape.

"We may still be able to help you," the old Vulcan offered. "Seven is concerned for y-"

"Everyone assumes I _want_ their 'help!'"

Icheb's raised voice earned stares from across the room. Captain Lexxa's pale, angular face was contorted in concern for her science officer. Ronara rolled her black Betazoid eyes away from Icheb, and returned to her hushed conversation with Prak the Breen gunner.

Lowering his voice back to a private volume, Icheb explained, "I was born to be a weapon. My parents conceived me to be their weapon against the Borg. Every time I tried to become something else-a Borg drone, a Starfleet officer, a Brunali citizen, a son-I failed disastrously. I wasn't wanted anywhere, until I found the Icarus."

"You were wanted on Voyager," Tuvok argued, almost sounding offended.

"I was _accepted_ on Voyager. But this new crew, these renegades, they want, _need_ , a living weapon. They appreciate me as I am, as I was meant to be."

"You are only 'meant' to be what you choose to be," Tuvok said. "Admiral Janeway, Seven of Nine, Chakotay, Naomi Wildman, all miss you. I have missed you, Icheb."

Icheb glanced over his shoulder. The only one of his shipmates who appeared to be listening was Ronara, who quickly looked away. But, Lexxa was no doubt putting that genetically enhanced hearing of hers to good use. Icheb decide to ignore them, and turned back to Tuvok.

"I've missed you all too," he admitted. "I worked in many different places before the Icarus. I became loyal to Captain Lexxa because she reminded me of Captain Janeway. Sans the Starfleet regulations and caffeine addiction that is." Icheb placed his next moved and watched the kal-toh arrangement shimmer. "I suppose my current situation, however dismal, is an improvement over still being stranded in the Delta Quadrant. And seeing Seven of Nine die, and you and Chakotay suffer. Actually, the Admiral Janeway from that alternate future didn't even seem to want to tell me where I was in her timeline when I asked her. I suspect I met a fate similar to Seven's."

Ronara was staring at them again, now looking completely baffled. "... _Huh_?"

Icheb glared at her. "Go back to playing with your telekinesis. See if you can't make Prak's helmet fly off and show is all what a Breen really looks like."

The Breen's gun instantly came up, as if he (or was Prak a she?) feared Ronara might heed Icheb's advice. The Betazoid's hands flew up defensively.

Icheb sighed and turned back to the game.

Carefully, Tuvok said, while pondering his next move in the game, "You may have the opportunity to work with some of your old friends from Voyager again, while still remaining a member of the Icarus's crew."

Icheb felt his brow furrow. "How-"

The Romulan guard made a warning sound, staring hard at Tuvok.

Tuvok sighed. "As I said, Admiral Chekov will explain."

The game continued in some silence. Icheb became irritably aware of that Romulan woman watching him like a hawk.

"What's a Romulan doing working for Starfleet," Icheb asked without looking at her, placing his next move.

"T'Leah is a defector." Tuvok answered.

Icheb glanced over at the Romulan. She simply bobbed her fierce eyebrows, her V-shaped ridge bouncing comically.

The doors hissed opened, and Admiral Chekov finally entered. The sight of the legendary officer kicked in Icheb's old Starfleet instincts and he almost rose to a stance before stopping himself.

"I see everyone's here," the admiral said in a crisp Russian accent. "Shall we get started?"

"A moment," Tuvok requested. "Our game is almost complete. I require no more than thirty seconds to bring this round to a close."

Icheb scoffed. "I beat you last time and I'll beat you this time, Tuvok. And you won't have any neurological condition to blame."

Admiral Chekov sighed deeply. "Very well, but whichever one of you is to win, please do it quickly! I have some important information for all of you."

"I'll be quick," the former drone promised.

" _Icheb_!" Lexxa closed her eyes patiently. "Just let the Vulcan win."

"He won't need to 'let' me," Tuvok said, eying the game intently. "I have been a kal-toh champion for over a cen-"

The Romulan, T'Leah, suddenly stepped forward, snatched Tuvok's game piece from his hand and placed it in the equation. The arrangement shimmered into it's game-ending shape.

"Kal-toh." The Romulan said flatly.

Tuvok slowly gazed up at her under her eyebrows.

"I didn't realize they played kal-toh on Romulus," Icheb said.

"We share a few cultural trends with our cousins." T'Leah shrugged.

"Good." Chekov punched the bridge of his nose. "Now, can we have our meeting?"

Icheb and Tuvok exchanged a glance, and reluctantly left the table.

* * *

 **AN: I loved the "Renegades" pilot, but was disappointed that there weren't more nods to previous series. Icheb and Tuvok acted like they didn't even know each other. So I wrote this "missing scene" ficlett.**


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